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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22888735">hey soldier</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei'>Chierei</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exquisite [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Future Fic, Gen, Jealous Edward Nygma, Lingerie, M/M, Oswald CobbleTHOT, Oswald is a troll, Poor Bruce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22888735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce accidentally discovers more than he ever wanted to know about Penguin and Riddler's sex life. He regrets everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oswald Cobblepot &amp; Bruce Wayne, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exquisite [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>179</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hey soldier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bruce didn’t know what they were up to, but they were up to something. This was the third time in two months that Riddler had allowed himself to be caught and sent to Arkham. Bruce knew that he had the skill to escape a dozen times over had the man wished, which meant that he was up to something, and he needed to be in Arkham for it.</p><p>Bruce had browsed through the asylum’s record, trying to follow Nygma’s movements, but, to all intents and purposes, he had been a model inmate. Even his interactions were nothing out of the ordinary—he got into rhyming battles with Hatter, chit-chatted with Ivy about her newest plants, and played chess with Harley. Other than his inevitable escape, he had been suspiciously compliant.</p><p>Bruce was distracted from his musing at the slow roll of a limo to one of the asylum’s side gates. He didn’t need to see the penguin-shaped hood decoration or the deep plum accents to know it belonged to Penguin. Penguin and Riddler had been inseparable in the last decade. Their wedding had been the event of the year, if not decade. The then-mayor of Gotham marrying his unknown Chief of Staff had been quite the scandal, but it hadn’t stopped them from have the grandest, most over the top, wedding that socialites had spent the next years attempting to top.</p><p>Bruce Wayne had, of course, attended with Selina Kyle as his plus one. Oswald Cobblepot has always been a low on his priority list—the man was a corrupt gangster to the core, but Bruce still had a certain amount of respect for the man. And the naked affection the grooms clearly shared with each other was enough for Bruce to wish them well. He studiously overlooked the fact that the wedding rings looked suspiciously like the pair recently gone missing from the Gotham Museum.</p><p>By the time Bruce decided to return to Gotham many years later after No Man’s Land, the two were a trouble-making power couple. Penguin was at least reasonable, reigning in his husband on his craziest schemes. Bruce was loathed to imagine what Nygma would get up to without his saber husband. On the downside, it was always hard to capture the man when he <em>did</em> collaborate with his husband—their team-ups were always exceptionally well planned, and even Joker was wary of intervening.</p><p>Which brought him back to his current suspicions.</p><p>The limo idled outside the gate, its headlights off but taking no other effort to disguise its presence. Bruce resisted the urge to click his tongue in thought, wondering what he should do next. He weighed his options, deciding to jump down from his perch. He landed on the ground in a crouch, making no sound other than the faint rustle of his cape. He needed to discover whatever these two were up to even if he had to intimidate it out of Penguin.</p><p>Bruce took the few steps needed to reach the limo door, throwing it open and ready to growl a threat that caught in his throat at what greeted him.</p><p>Penguin was lounging back against the leather interior, a glass of red wine in his hand, held up in mid-sip, and looking unruffled. But that wasn’t what made Bruce stop. The man was dressed clearly expecting someone who was definitely not the Batman. Bruce hated his keen skills of observation at that moment, his mind unable to <em>not</em> take in the sight of the man lazing before him in dark lingerie. It was some lacy ensemble, shot through with silver thread, and far too many straps that Bruce did not know the purpose for other than aesthetics. It was almost sheer in places, leaving very little to the imagination and the matching stockings—God why was he noticing this—ran all the way down to highlight a pair of dangerous-looking silver high heels. On anyone else, or almost anyone else, the sight would’ve made Bruce’s mouth dry.</p><p>Penguin held his gaze, his lips slowly turning up into a devious smile. “Hey, soldier,” he said in what could only be a seductive purr, a sound that Bruce had never wanted to hear out of the Penguin in his entire life. Bruce was frozen, not sure what else to do and not able to take his eyes off the way the Penguin leaned to one side, forcing Bruce’s eyes to trace the curve of his hip as the man gave him a Look from beneath his long lashes.</p><p>“Are you going to come in?” the Penguin said, every inch looking like a king on his throne, uncaring of his state of undress. “Eddie is running late, but we can prepare a <em>special</em> surprise for him.”</p><p>Bruce could feel his face burn, and he slammed the door shut as though the touch of it burned. He—no—nope—not going there.</p><p>Bruce hurried away from the limo as though its mere presence could infect him, jumping into the batmobile faster than he ever had before. Gotham would have to manage the night without its silent protector, because he needed a drink.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, soldier.</em>
</p><p>Bruce shuddered. He needed several drinks.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bruce thought that would be the end of it. He had <em>prayed</em> that would be the end of it. He made it back to the manor in record time, not explaining to Alfred why he had decided to cut his patrol short beyond saying that Riddler and Penguin weren’t planning anything. And then he declined to answer how he knew that.</p><p>He had been one-hundred percent ready to pretend the night had never happened, that he hadn’t somehow barged into the middle of whatever private sex those two had. He knew that it was completely normal—they had been married for well over a decade, but honestly thinking that any of his rogues having a sex life was akin thinking of Alfred in the same way.</p><p>So, Bruce would've been happy to pretend the night had never happened, and he figured that Penguin would feel the same. He would have been mortified if either he or Selina had been caught in any such way, but he should’ve known that Penguin and Riddler never follow his expectations.</p><p>It was almost a month later that he came face-to-face with the Penguin again. He dropped in from the ceiling to the center of the warehouse, right between the two sides that had been bickering over the exchange. Penguin and Riddler were at one side, the henchmen flanking them, as they had been trying to negotiate new, and more favorable, terms for the latest doohickey that would undoubtedly try to blow up a portion of Gotham again.</p><p>Everyone looked wary at his arrival, all of the guns suddenly pointing at him though, as he had expected, no one on firing. They had learned that the quickest way to earn Batman’s ire was with guns.</p><p>Bruce was halfway through disabling both sides, working as quickly as possible so he could abscond with the device when he heard it. He had been partway through an uppercut that would’ve knocked one of the men out cold.</p><p>“Hey, soldier,” the Penguin said, again in the same smooth and looking as unruffled as he had that night. He was leaning against his umbrella, hip cocked more as a result of his leg than any attempt to looking coquettish, but the words gave Bruce the flash of memory that involved lots of pale skin and very little fabric.</p><p>Bruce stumbled, missing his mark and having to throw himself into a roll to prevent falling over into an undignified heap.</p><p>Everyone stopped. Stunned. Because did he—did the Batman just...trip?</p><p>Bruce was glad his cowl covered his face cause he could feel the heat burning his cheeks. In a panic, he threw down a smoke bomb, using the moment of cover to retreat with the device and steadfastly pretending he wasn’t running away.</p><p>And that would have been that except Penguin <em>kept </em>doing it. Every time he came face to face with the man, he would cock a hip and give him this smolder and say those two words, and no matter what Bruce did, he couldn’t contain his utter and mortifying embarrassment.</p><p>Worst yet—as if it <em>could</em> get worse—the Riddler had noticed. Someone should have warned Bruce about this side of Edward Nygma, this petty, jealous side who would not listen to reason. The side that was suspending Bruce upside down and tied up over a vat of acid all because he perceived Batman to be flirting with his husband.</p><p>“You...you hussy!” the Riddler said, and Bruce struggled not to laugh because that was the first time anybody had called him a hussy. Or, honestly, the first time he heard the word used at all. “You homewrecker! I’ve seen the way that you have been looking at Oswald, and no! Oswald is mine, you hear me! Mine!”</p><p>Bruce sighed, not able to stop himself even as he slowly worked his hands free of the bonds—they were sloppy, a testament of Nygma having twisted himself into a flurry of indignation and jealousy. “I am not interested in your husband, Riddler,” he said, the voice modulator not hiding the flat, unamused tone.</p><p>“What?” Riddler said, stopping his rant abruptly. “Are you saying he’s not good enough for you? Because you would be lucky to have Oswald even <em>look</em> at your direction, buster! He’s—“</p><p>By the time Bruce managed to free himself, he had been forced to listen to what has to be the Ten Commandments in honor of Oswald Cobblepot, and he still wasn’t sure if the Riddler was trying to warn him away from his husband or not.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“So,” Selina said, in the tone of voice that kicked up every one of Bruce’s wanting bells. “Rumor has it that Batman has the hots for Penguin.”</p><p>Bruce groaned. “Selina,” he said, burying his head in his arms and ignoring how Alfred choked from where he was fixing a new plate of breakfast for Selina.</p><p>“Nygma has been in overdrive ranting about it to everyone.” Selina shrugged, nabbing a piece of bacon off Bruce’s plate. She jumped up to sit in the counter, ignoring Alfred’s grumbling about manners.</p><p>Bruce begged the ground to open up and swallow him.</p><p>“So how did this come about? Apparently, Batman tripped the other day? And why does Penguin keep calling you soldier?” Selina looked like she was enjoying this.</p><p>In any other scenario, Bruce would have enjoyed the way the smirk made her look and taken the opportunity to admire her trademark leather outfit lounging at eye level. But instead—</p><p>“It was an accident! I thought they were scheming something and instead—“ Bruce cut himself off, not able to continue without burning in mortification. He buried his face back into his arms in a vain attempt to hide.</p><p>“Ahh,” Selina said sagely, nodding. “It was a sex thing, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Bruce nodded into his arms, not bothering to lift his head.</p><p>“Dude,” Selina said, flicking a curl over her shoulder. “Everyone has walked in on them at least once. I think I’ve seen Riddler’s dick a dozen times.”</p><p>Bruce decided to table that revelation for later. “It...wasn’t that,” he admitted reluctantly, very reluctantly.</p><p>Selina cocked her head and gave him an expectant look. “Well, you can’t leave me hanging,” she said, gesturing for him to continue.</p><p>Bruce made a sound that was akin to a dying animal. “I’d rather not relive it,” he pleaded, brows furrowed in distress.</p><p>Selina crossed her arms.</p><p>Bruce sighed. He never could say no to Selina. “I may have seen Penguin in...a…” He trailed off, trying to think about how best to word it. He waved his hands, gesturing as though it would help explain. “In…”</p><p>A look of recognition came over her. “It’s the lingerie thing, isn’t it?” she said, casual, as though it wasn’t the single most embarrassing moment of Bruce’s life.</p><p>“Thing?” Bruce said, blanching. “It’s...what.”</p><p>Selina laughed. “Dude, I think everyone knows. Penguin doesn’t even hide it anymore. He used to strut around City Hall practically naked during No Man’s Land. You should feel flattered that Nygma thinks you are enough of a threat. He hasn’t felt the need in years to remind people that he’s been banging Penguin.”</p><p>“Flattered is the last thing I feel,” Bruce said, stabbing viciously at his eggs and picturing them to be Riddler’s face.</p><p>Selina ignored him, accepting the plate for Alfred and picking at it with her fingers as she spoke. “I mean, probably half of Penguin’s men follow him just to see him flounce around in little bits of lace. He and Riddler were pretty well known for being basically exhibitionists.”</p><p>“Selina, please,” Bruce whimpered. “I don’t want to know.”</p><p>Selina smirked in a way that Bruce knew meant trouble. “There <em>is</em> a reason people have been calling him Oswald CobbleTHOT, after all.”</p><p>“SELINA.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Mr. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”</p><p>“Likewise, Mr. Cobblethot—“</p><p>Silence<em>.</em></p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“First you, and now Bruce Wayne! Is the city conspiring to take my husband from me?”</p><p>“Riddler. How many times—“</p><p>“Nu-uh, Batsy! Now riddle me this…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Please tell your husband to stop harassing me,” Bruce said. This was his last resort. He had slipped into the Iceberg Lounge, hiding in the corner until Penguin returned to his office. He had confirmed that Riddler was busy doing something at the Riddle Factory. Selina had been convinced to keep him occupied in exchange for something suitably large and shiny. The last thing he needed was for Nygma to suddenly think Batman was trying to plan a clandestine and illicit rendezvous with his husband.</p><p>Penguin didn’t even have the common decency to be surprised at Batman’s lurking. He only smirked, opening his mouth to say, “Hey, soldi—”</p><p>“Don’t,” Bruce growled, cutting him off sharply. “For the love of God, don’t.”</p><p>Penguin looked way too pleased as he took a seat behind his desk, unmindful of the masked vigilante glaring daggers at him. He poured himself a glass of scotch, offering one to the scowling Batman who was in no mood to play games.</p><p>“If Riddler kidnaps me one more time with threats to stay away from you—because he is deluded into thinking I’m trying to steal you away and then offended when I tell him otherwise—I take no responsibility for my actions.”</p><p>Oswald laughed, leaning back in his seat and cradling the glass in his hands. “Oh, my dear bat. Haven’t you considered that I’ve already been reigning him in? Ed has been trying to talk me into have very loud and very public sex on every tall building that you might be on for weeks. It’s only that it is winter that I’ve managed to get him to reconsider.”</p><p>Bruce was haunted by the possibility of finding the two caught in an intimate embrace all over Gotham and balked. “Can’t you do...something? Anything?” Bruce was trying not to sound desperate, but he knew he was failing.</p><p>Penguin hummed, clicking his tongue and smiling. “Perhaps. But where is the fun in that?” He exaggeratedly fluttered his eyelashes at Bruce.</p><p>“Penguin,” Bruce said, falling short of sounding intimidating and coming out more pleading.</p><p>Penguin smirked, taking a sip of his drink. “What would I get in return?”</p><p><em>Anything</em>. “How about I don’t toss you into Arkham?” Bruce said, trying once more and in vain for intimidation.</p><p>“Is that meant to be a threat? Because the best part of Arkham is the welcome home I get where Ed likes to bend me o—“</p><p>“I’ll owe you a favor,” Bruce cut off quickly, trying to pretend he didn’t hear anything at all.</p><p>“<em>Any</em> favor?” Penguin said, leaning forward like a cat about to pounce on an injured canary. Or, in this case, an injured bat.</p><p>“As long as no one gets hurt,” Bruce amended.</p><p>“Deal,” Penguin said, smug. “I’ll talk to Ed when he gets home.”</p><p>Bruce grunted, hiding his relief. He headed to the window, about to jump out when—</p><p>“Bye, <em>soldier</em>.”</p><p>Bruce shouldn’t have <em>ever</em> come back to Gotham.</p><p> </p><p>∞</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Years later</em>
</p><p>“I think Riddler and Penguin are up to something,” Dick said, hovering over Bruce’s shoulder as he worked on upgrading his grappling hook in the Cave. “Riddler has been in Arkham three times this month, and Penguin has been hovering outside of Arkham too! We should—“</p><p>“NO.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Art by <a href="https://twitter.com/tropotropotropo">yandere beat.</a></em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ask, and you shall receive. By popular request, I wrote this self-indulgent piece of crack for everyone. I humbly give all ownership to the term Oswald Cobblethot to the <i>yandere beat</i> and all the crazies on <a href="https://discord.gg/S2GgRCn">Discord</a>, along with the entire existence of this series that I internally always refer to as <i>panty fic</i>.</p><p>Thanks to everyone for indulging my crazy! Please take a moment to let me know what you thought in the comments! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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